


Old World Goodbyes

by Kittenly



Series: Halfway to Heaven and Just a Mile Out 'A Hell [6]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: But more about moving on than angst, Character Study, Darling and Valentine haven't quite fallen in love yet--but at this point it's become inevitable, F/M, Light Angst, Slow Burn, Talking about dead spouses, early on in a slow burn romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 03:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12975153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenly/pseuds/Kittenly
Summary: Valentine and Darling put some old ghosts to rest. One at Andrews Station, and another back at Vault 111.





	1. Chapter 1

I’d never seen Valentine like this. He was twitchy, snappy, and the way he was going he might get both of us killed. We had no teamwork, no sense of coordination as he charged through the Raider gang camped out in Andrews Station. Setting off every goddamn booby trap in the place and bringing the raiders down on us like angry hornets.

Full frontal assault is not how you want to go when you’re outnumbered fifteen to one, but by the grace of god and kevlar we managed it. I stumbled up to Winter’s vault where Valentine stood staring at the keypad. I took his rigid stillness to mean that we were taking a breather and began picking shrapnel out of my arm from a mine Valentine set off in my face.

“Let’s go,” he said, just as I’d plucked a few shards out of my coat. The ballistic weave meant nothing went too deep, but I was still slashed up pretty good. And more importantly, the coat would need mending.

Clearly I’d misread the pause. We weren’t taking a bandage break.

I made to protest but he was already punching in the code. A squeal of hydraulics and then I heard a voice I’d become intimately acquainted with over holotape.

“Who the fuck?” Eddie Winter said. He wasn’t at all as I’d imagined. A short, fat ghoul with snowy hair. His clothes were clean but casual. You don’t usually imagine viscous mob bosses lying about in cheap lounge clothes. Bit far from the three piece, full Windsor sporting figure I’d pictured.

I was half tempted to do a reprise of the Silver Shroud voice, but Valentine was pissed enough already. This was all his baggage. I was just here as sharpshooting and moral support. I stayed silent. Valentine walked in.

“Eddie Winter,” he said, his voice more full of hate than I’d ever heard it. It didn’t suit him one bit. “This finally ends.”

Winter looked pissed for a bit, then abruptly he started laughing.

“Shit. The tapes? You got in cause of the tapes, didn’t you?”

“Yes, you arrogant son of a bitch,” Valentine growled.

“I can’t believe it took those morons over two hundred years to crack it. Or are you the robot overlords coming to clean out the rest of humanity.”

His eyes landed on me then. “Who are you missy? Do they keep pretty things like you as pets up there?”

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Valentine snapped. “Jesus, I’ve waiting over two hundred years for this.”

Eddie’s attention returned to him. I took the distraction to pull out _Bad News_. The cuts in my arm smarted something awful with every movement. Goddamn it, Valentine never forgot to give me time to patch myself up between scraps. Hell, usually he was the one doing the patching.

“So you gonna tell me who the fuck you are?” Eddie said, his humor fading into irritation.

“Nick Valentine,” Valentine said. “You remember Jennifer Lands? She was my fiancee.”

Eddie’s bloodburst eyes traveled over Valentine and his frown deepened.

“Yeah, I remember Jenny. Pretty broad. Smart. Such a shame what happened to her.”

“You murdered her, not one block from here.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Winter’s face. “Nick. The cop? That’s who you think you are?”

“That’s me,” Valentine said.

“Sorry Robo, but Nick and Jenny are long dead. I dunno what you are, but alive ain’t it.”

The words didn’t seem to bother Valentine, but they made something burn up in me. I started to raise my pistol but Valentine’s arm crossed in front of me.

“Let me do this,” he said to me, low and angry.

“Feds and Boston PD couldn’t get me, you think a rusty machine programmed to be a lousy cop and a bird like her can do what they didn’t?”

His hand moved with the creepy fast speed only ghouls could muster. But it wasn’t enough, as me and Valentine already had pistols drawn. _Bad News_ caught him in the shoulder and Valentine’s little snub-nosed pistol caught him just over his right eye. Even a ghoul’s constitution can't do nothin ‘bout a clean headshot.

Eddie Winter just kinda slumped to the floor, the gun he’d been drawing not even all the way out of its holster. Rather underwhelming in the end. Valentine just stood there for a long moment, staring down at the nemesis that had haunted Nick both New and Old. His face was utterly blank, and for the first time, his face was the face of an Institute synth. Empty of any emotion or inner light.

It was gone in a second, but not soon enough to stop my heart from skipping a beat or two. When he turned towards me, he was Valentine again. He looked tired and sad and very old.

“Just one more thing to take care of,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “I’d appreciate the company if you’d join me?”

God this man was gonna break my heart. He didn’t need to sound so uncertain. “Consider yourself joined,” I said, injecting levity I didn’t feel into the words. “Though this time, maybe mind the mines?”

He looked at me with a start, and seemed to only just then take in that I was cradling an arm that was still oozing blood and that I was coated in a fine film of explosive powder.

“Darling… I didn’t--I was so focused on getting to Eddie--”

I cut him off with a shrug and a smile. “I know. We’re both still alive so I’ll let you off the hook this time.”

He bit his lip, a stunningly human expression, but seemed to take my words to heart. We left the corpse and the bunker behind, and I breathed a sigh of relief when we were above ground again. Tunnels reminded me of Vaults, and I ain’t had one good experience in a Vault.

Afternoon sun beat down on us, heavy in the summer heat. We meandered through the ruins in silence. I’d seen the look in Valentine’s face countless times in my own mirror. Someone at a complete loss of what to do next. At least it was a victory that put him in that position.

Finally, Valentine halted. He crouched down and brushed his fingers over the broken pavement. It was a nice place, for the ruins. Grasses grew thick and wild by the houses and in bursts through cracked concrete.

“This is where they shot her,” he said. “And now that Winter is gone, the last loose thread of Old Nick’s life, tied up in a little bow. I...I find myself at a loss.”

“Seems to me like you’re free,” I said. I think I managed to keep the bitter envy from my voice.

But he shook his head. “No. It’s not that easy. All of me that matters, that makes me _me_ is his. His values. His drive. His memories.” He buried his head in his hands. But now that he’d gotten going, the words just starting spilling like he was a dam overflowing. “I _remember_ getting the call about Jenny. I remember her funeral, her parents, so kind and generous even though it was _my_ fault she was dead. Her mother asked me to stay in touch, to spend Thanksgiving with them like we had planned. I didn’t go. I couldn’t face them and know that if she had been with anyone other than me she’d still be there.”

He turned to look at me, resignation etched into every bit of him. “But it wasn’t _me_. It wasn’t me who went to that research facility because it seemed easier than suicide. None of that is mine. But this? Putting Winter down once and for all, achieving a bit of justice in this wasteland? That’s mine.”

He took a deep breath and his shoulders sagged. “And it may be the only thing I got that’s really mine and not Old Nick’s, but now I can go to the scrapyard happy.”

It shouldn’t hurt. It was stupid, and pathetic, and it shouldn’t hurt. Still I felt like I’d been pierced through the heart by a rail spike. Valentine didn’t need me to say anything, so I wandered around the area while he stared at the spot Jenny had been killed some more. Most of the wild flowers were gone by this time of year, but I managed to find enough hangers-on to make a decent bouquet. I tied the stems with a bit of cord from my pack and walked it over to where Valentine was still standing and staring.

“Hey Valentine--I know she don’t got a grave here,” I said, holding them out. “But I thought maybe the gesture would still be worth something.”

He took them and looked up at me with such tenderness it sent my heart pounding.

“Thank you, Darling,” he said, sounding a little choked up despite that not being a thing for a synth. I left him on his own to set the flowers where he would and pulled off my coat to finally tend to my earlier injuries. Like I expected, there was nothing that bad, just some cuts and minor burns. Quite a bit of blood, but nothing that would even need stitches. I washed my arm with some purified water, slathered it in antiseptic cream and wrapped it in my cleanest roll of bandages.

I was just finishing up when Valentine returned. He looked guiltily at the first aid supplies. I flashed him a grin.

“Nothing serious.”

“Good, good,” he said absently. “I was thinking, after everything that’s happened, I’d understand if you’d want some time to yourself.”

I snorted. “Valentine, you ain’t getting rid of me that easy.”

A relieved smile appeared on his face. “Damn,” he said, offering me an arm up. “Worth a shot.”

“Nah,” I said. My heart was still pounding and still hurt with every thump, but I kept my breathing even and slipped into the teasing-smile-mask like it was a worn glove. “I’m like some kind of weird growth that’s attached itself to you. Might wanna get that looked at.”

“Wise-ass,” he said fondly. I didn’t protest. “I guess we should head out.”

* * *

It was a struggle to keep the front up all day, but I was good at playing pretend so I managed alright.

Or that’s what I thought.

When we settled down for the night, sheltering in a crumbling Super Duper Mart, things were calm. I’d made myself some dinner but mostly ended up pushing it around the tin mess kit. I bantered with Valentine whenever we talked, but we were mostly quiet.

As I was about to turn in for the night, Valentine spoke up.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked.

It surprised me so much that I just stared at him for a moment.

“What’s bothering me?” I echoed.

He frowned at me. “Yeah. Something’s been off since we left the bunker today.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. My cheeks started to darken a bit.

He gave a disgusted growl at that. “Damnit Darling, don’t lie to me,” he said. “I’ve been watching, and every time you think I’m not looking you get this distant look on your face. And you’re counting your breaths to keep them even.”

That made me _stop_ breathing for a second. I’d been counting sevens all day to keep ragged breathing from giving me away. He’d noticed. _No one_ _ever noticed_.

He’d put me off balance and I could feel the rail spike in my heart again, sending its pain through my arteries with every pump. I could feel it spread to my face, starting at a hot pricking in my eyes and spreading, twisting my features into something raw and shaking.

Valentine froze, probably startled by such uncontrolled emotion on my face. He reached out and touched my cheek, causing the tears I’d been trying to hold back to spill. No, no, no--this was all wrong. I couldn’t really be this weak. I’d survived the fucking end of the world. I should be able to deal with some bruised feelings.

“It’s nothing,” I said, trying to wrestle control back from my heart.  

He gave a hollow laugh. “It’s painfully clear that’s a big fat lie.”

“Fine,” I said, pulling away. “It’s stupid then.”

“Can’t be more stupid than the bullshit you usually spew,” he said. It had the intended effect. I laughed just a little.

I sighed, pulled in a deep breath, and looked away. I gave in; it hurt too much. I needed to pull the rail spike out, but I didn’t think I could do it looking at him.

“Something you said earlier,” I started. He moved closer, scooting beside me. His presence was a war between comforting and terrifying. “That the only thing you have that’s really yours and not Old Nick’s is the little piece of justice you got today.”

There was a long pause. He was confused. Time to grab and yank. Delaying would only make it hurt longer.

“I,” shit my voice was truly breaking now. “I just thought…” Come on girl, spit it out. “I thought that maybe... I was something good you got.”

There. The spike was free, and all that was left was the gush of blood.

I could feel Valentine’s eyes on me. “I hadn't thought about it like that,” he said softly.

Great. Now I was making an ass of myself, presuming that I was important enough to shape his world. I was just a woman. His client, in the end.

When he spoke, he sounded more like he was talking to himself than me, “The only thing I, meaning Nick the Synth, ever wanted is something that’s mine and only mine.” He started gnawing his lip again, like he wanted to continue but didn’t know how.

We traded places, him looking down and me looking at him. I gave him space to think while I tried to get myself under control. He opened his mouth a few times, then closed it, reconsidering.

“There's something I've been meaning to ask you,” he said finally. “I haven't gotten around to it for one reason or another. Part of it is it's sort of awkward to ask while you're my client of sorts.”

“I think our relationship has moved on from that,” I said. The fact that I'd mentally characterized us in the same way a moment ago was an irony that didn't escape me.

“I feel the same. But I'm glad to hear you say it.”

“So, spill, Rusty. What did you want to ask?” My voice was still wobbly but I was no longer actually crying.

Valentine hesitated and glanced at me. I nudged him with my shoulder. It got a grin out of him.

“I was thinking,” he said, “tracking down Winter. Finding Kellogg. You ain’t a half bad sleuth yourself. And you said it: you stopped being my client a while ago.”

“I ain’t heard a question yet,” I said. He huffed. It made me feel a little better to know I wasn’t the only one who had trouble spitting things out. 

“What would you say if I asked you to stick with me? Join the agency. As my partner.”

I felt warmth seeping from where the rail spike used to be, but couldn’t tell if it was just relief or something more.

“See the world from the other side of the fence?” I said absently. Valentine looked at me funny. Ah. Guess that fun fact hadn’t ever come up before. I extended my hand to him. Bemused, he took it.

“Sofia Darling,” I said. “Prosecutor for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Or would be, but my license is well over two hundred years lapsed.”

“No shit,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t know you were a lawyer. Though now that I think about it, it makes an awful lot of sense. If I’d met you back Before, I would have had you pegged from the start.”

“I am what I am,” I said with an easy shrug. My face was probably still a blotchy disaster, but I was ready to move on. The tension from moments ago melted away leaving us in our usual comfortable companionship. Curiously, the spreading warmth remained. Valentine turned to me proper, and I followed. We were sitting on the floor, both of us cross-legged, with our knees touching like we were a pair of kids in summer camp.

“Did we ever meet?” he asked. “If you were prosecutor, we would have been playing for the same team.”

I shook my head. “Nah, I did corporate crime. Embezzlement, tax evasion. That sort of thing.”

“Huh,” Valentine said, taken aback. “Not what I would have guessed.”

I felt a fire in my belly that I hadn’t felt in a long-ass time. Seemed like Valentine was stirring up coals I thought long buried and cold.

“You remember what things were like,” I said. I took the heavy silence as a yes. “It’s not like we could get megacorps to stop violating regulations left, right, and center--not with the joke the agencies meant to keep them in line had become. Only way I could make any difference was by going after the money.”

“Woulda liked to have seen you in the courtroom,” he said, and smiled at whatever image he was dreaming up.

“Oh?”

“I’m betting you were a force to be reckoned with. Magical on the floor.”

I chuckled. “I sure liked to think so,” I said, and then, “For all the good it did in the end.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

We sat in companionable, if melancholy, silence after that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to shake the shadow of the Old World. Don’t know if I should. Maybe it’s good that someone remembers what it was like to live there. Everyone except some ghouls and Sweet Old Valentine have this vision of life before that’s only the gilded gold of myth. We may have had grand cities and cars and airplanes and robot butlers and baseball, but the myth don't seem to remember the crumbling iron underneath the gold paint. It wasn’t a good world.

And deep down, in a part of my heart I didn’t like to look at, I was glad it was gone. The Wasteland was ruthless and harsh and sometimes miserable, but it was honest. No one here pretended life was anything but what it was, both when times were hard and when they were good. There was no exhausting pantomime of living in a golden age when every part of my life was a prison.

I don’t know if Valentine saw the dark thoughts on my face, but he stood and hauled me up with him. I caught something that might have been embarrassment before he leaned into me and hugged me tight.

That was another thing about the Wasteland. Maybe it’s ‘cause people are so few and far between, but physical affection can be hard to come by. Wealthers made up for it by being generous with it. Hugs, holding hands, and, hell, spooning weren’t reserved for lovers and family, but passed between even tentative friends. It freaked me out a bit when Piper first hugged me after maybe a few hours of knowing each other. But after the initial surprise I couldn’t deny how nice it felt to feel another person after those few weeks with only Dogmeat and Codsworth for company.

It seemed like Valentine was letting go of his Old World hangups. I returned the squeeze, pulling him close. He was warm and the barest mechanical hum vibrated through him. We stood there for a long time, just enjoying the pressure of touch.

I don’t think either of us wanted to let go, but soon seconds were stretching into minutes. I started to pull away, but he gave one more squeeze and mumbled something so soft I’m still not quite sure I heard it.

“Glad I got you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Despite what my former life might suggest, I am not a suburbs kind of woman. Nevertheless, Sanctuary Hills had matured into a nice little settlement. It was a solid base of operations. And it was good to get out of the city for a bit.

I could use the quiet after all the excitement of finally hunting down Eddie Winter. The whole thing had left both me and Valentine drained and dead as my old house plants, and we decided the peace and quiet might help rejuvenate us a bit.

Things had changed. The conversation we’d had the night after we ended Eddie had broken down something between us. Though our talk was still about eighty percent good-natured ribbing, there were now long stretches of contented quiet. When he’d asked me to be his partner, I worried I might have to live up to new expectations. Turned out the opposite was more true. I hadn’t quite realized how much I’d been fearing that Valentine would get bored with me and move on to someone more interesting. Especially since Shaun and the Institute were such dead ends at the moment. I’d been making an unconscious effort to stay the sparkliest thing in the metaphorical room. Keep his attention.

It wasn’t like that now. Whatever was to come with the Institute, my son, or any other surprises the Wasteland decided to throw at us, me and Valentine were in it together for the long haul.

That was good thing, ‘cause I didn’t think I could do this part alone.

“--such a good, patient mother--” the holotape said for probably the hundredth time. I sat in my old room in my old house in the old suburbs. It was barely recognizable with the shitty twin bed and walls covered in paintings of lighthouses. A far cry from the exquisitely tasteful decor our home had boasted before the bombs.

Traveling with Valentine over the past few weeks had got me thinking. He’d always have scars from what happened with Eddie, but now that the case had been closed so to speak, the wounds could close too. He really was free.

It made me think I might also be able to say goodbye to Before. Or at least a part of it.

“You gonna wear that thing out the way you’re going about it,” Valentine said, appearing in the bedroom door.

I didn’t say anything put rewound the tape and started over. Nate’s voice came through, cheerful as ever. Valentine came and sat down next to me. I just kept staring at the PipBoy my dead husband’s voice bubbled from.

“Now Shaun and I love you very much. Your two boys would be lost without you. Seriously, babe. I don’t think there’s anyone out there who’s as warm, and loving, and indulgent with us two trouble makers. Our little man’s got such a good, patient mother. I know things are gonna be great.”

The tape stopped. There was a bit of an awkward pause as Valentine tried to figure out what to say.

“He sounds like he was...nice,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” I said and kept staring blankly down. “Nice.”

“And it sounded…” Valentine trailed off, presumably to find some unoffensive way to say what he was thinking.

“Like he was talking about someone else?” I asked, too tired to be anything but blunt.

“It...seemed a little off,” Valentine said. “I’ve never seen you act anyway that could be described as ‘indulgent.’”

I stood and walked to the window. A late summer sun was setting, painting the wasteland a fiery orange. I stared at the old blasted out buildings. Perfect houses had died with all the perfect people. Now all the picket fences were strewn about, cracked and rotting. In many cases, the regulation blue and yellow siding had been painted over with all sorts of rainbow colors in patterns and designs only children could conceive.

The Homeowners’ Association would have thrown a fit. Violations of the CC&R’s everywhere you looked. I liked it better this way.

“Can I ask you a favor?” I said, wanting to avoid talking about Nate any more.

“What's that?”

“There's something I wanna do. I…” words caught in my throats as I struggled to find the right ones. “I dunno exactly what it'll look like, but… would you come with me?”

Valentine must have sensed something serious in my bearing, cause he didn't say anything funny. “Sure. Where is it you want to go?”

My eyes drifted from the surrounding houses to the rise behind them. The hill containing Vault 111.

“Just stay with me?” I asked.

Valentine walked over to my side and followed my gaze to the western hill. I finally broke my blank stare out the window and caught Valentine looking at me all concerned.

“Yeah. I'll be right here,” he said.

I started moving. We walked in silence down the road of Sanctuary, following the route I’d taken with Nate on the last day of Before.

As we started climbing, Valentine asked, “Why aren't you telling me what it is we're doing?”

I let out a huff and kicked a rock along the path. “I ain't trying to keep you in the dark--”

“Well you're doing a pretty lousy job if that's your goal,” he said, more teasing than scolding.

I kicked the rock again and shoved my hands into my coat pockets. “It's just--I don't know exactly what I want,” I confessed. “I don't know what I'm gonna do or what's gonna be waiting for me. I just know something has to happen and trust me, I’d love to have a clearer idea of what I’m trying to accomplish.”

We reached the chain link fence. It was rusted and brittle as a dry autumn leaf. Hard to imagine it keeping anyone out. But it had. Neighbors had watched us through it, wondering why their families weren't chosen to live on in a post-war world. I had about as much of an answer for them as I did for the popsicles who stared at me with frozen, dead eyes as I stumbled to a new life two hundred years later.

“Darling,” Valentine said.

“Yeah?”

“You gonna be okay going down there?” he asked, looking between me and the vault entrance.

“Sure. Ain’t anything nasty down there. It's been sealed since I left, and there was nothin’ there when I woke up. “

“That's not what I meant. You hate going underground.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“I see what you're like whenever we have to go scrambling through tunnels. It winds you up like a spring.”

How did this man pick up on these things? I guess he really had earned his title of detective. He wasn’t wrong. I didn't like being underground and I sure as hell didn't like vaults.

I said nothing, just started walking stubbornly towards the elevator. Valentine sighed and followed. The metal groaned as it lowered us into the belly of the hill. My Thinking Brain knew that nothing bad would happen, but the rest of me tensed for what felt like the imminent collapse of twisted metal on top of me.

Most of the industrial lights had burnt out with two hundred years of neglect, so the bunker looked even more like the set of a shitty horror film than most. Lights flickered yellow and green off the steel walkways. I turned on my PipBoy light and Valentine drew a heavy duty flashlight from one of his coat pockets. Our fragile beams of light did little to diminish the creepy atmosphere.

The old security gate at the base of the elevator squealed like I was personally torturing it. We walked forward. Thick layers of the dust had settled from the earth surrounding us and my own footprints from when I left were long lost. It did make our boot steps a little softer on the metal grating though, which was something at least.

Thinking Brain was still working overtime to try to keep Feeling Brain from losing its shit about the irradiated abominations that were definitely, hundred percent, waking to the noise of our approach. So far it was under control.

I popped my PipBoy dongle into the console and activated the actual vault doors. The whole room trembled as the door rolled open. I found myself squeezing my eyes shut until it was over.

Near perfect blackness waited for us inside.

“Feels a bit like we’re walking into some giant monster’s mouth,” Valentine said. He moved up close, so our coat sleeves were touching.

“I don’t think the reality’s any better,” I said, my voice low and quiet. “One-eleven ain’t a vault. It’s a tomb.”

“You still want to go in there?” Valentine asked.

“I need to.”

“Then let’s go.”

We made our way along the creaking catwalk and through the portal. As we passed into the vault proper, a few lights buzzed on. Or tried to. Maybe one in five still had any life in them, and of those, most flickered on and off.

The vault was hardly welcoming two hundred and some years ago when I’d first entered it. Now the veneer of cheerful paint had thoroughly fallen away, revealing the harsh, utilitarian concrete for what it was. Even so, it was still better this time around. I wasn’t alone.

We'd only taken a few steps down the corridor when I had to speak.

“Me and Nate weren’t like you and Jenny,” I said, finally spilling the thoughts I had been chewing on. If I was gonna get this out, it felt like this was the place to do it. Somewhere I could leave and seal behind me.

“I mean, that sort of goes without saying. You were married. Had a kid together,” Valentine said.

“That’s not what I mean. You loved Jenny. And she loved you back, right?”

For a moment the only sound was the echoing of footsteps bouncing off the bare walls and ceiling.

“Well, yeah. That’s sort of why I was going to marry her,” he said, confused.

I kept my eyes forward, already feeling a bit ashamed of what I needed to say.

“I didn’t” I said, quietly.

“Didn’t…?”

“Didn’t love him. Nate.”

Valentine was silent in a way that meant he had about a hundred questions and was trying to figure out which one to ask first. Unfortunately, they just all sort of overflowed at once.

“Then why did you marry him? Did you ever? Love him, I mean? Why the hell did you have a kid with him--”

Shit. This was too much. I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to soothe the pressure that was building there.

“Please--just one thing at a time,” I begged.

He took a deep breath and seemed to collect himself a bit. We turned, taking a narrow corridor past the overseer’s office. It had been untouched since I had rummaged through it.

“Right. Sorry,” he said, and sounded like he meant it. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

I shook my head, which he probably could barely see. So I said, even though my voice was sticking in my throat, “No. I need you to ask. Or it’ll just keep rotting inside me.”

“Did you ever love him?” Valentine asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Looking back I don’t think so.”

“So why did you marry him?”

A cacophony of thoughts flooded my mind, and I had to breathe and sort through them. Figure out which bits mattered and which didn’t.

“We grew up together,” I said. “Family friends, then high school sweethearts. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Valentine said, gently urging me on.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that he loved me from then ‘til he died,” I said. “And I thought...maybe if I tried hard enough and let him love me then I’d feel love too. He was a good man, and a friend. I _should_ have been able to love him.”

“The heart don’t work like that,” said Valentine, not unkindly.

I knew that, and was getting to the point where I could even admit it. Didn’t make things hurt less though. The pressure in my head was getting unbearable. Talking had made it grow, but silence was even worse. I continued.

“Things just kept going. We went to school, all the same people I grew up with in the same ivy league bubble as our parents. Soon everyone started pairing off, settling into domestic bliss. I’d been dating Nate for years. What was I supposed to do? Break up with him? Call it off? If I did that everyone I knew would drop me cold.”

“So you went through the motions.”

I nodded. “I knew from when I was a kid there was something wrong with me,” I said it unemotionally; it was just a fact. I caught Valentine glancing at me when I said it, but my mind was moving too much to analyze it. “My mother and father worked so hard to provide for me. The least I could do was appreciate it. I never was good at that. Always too wrapped up in a child's petty concerns to be mindful of others.”

“Darling--”

I plowed forward, ignoring his interruption. “Everyone I knew found happiness in the life they were given. If I could just pretend for long enough, I was sure I'd find the secret.”

“And Shaun?”

I winced. But if I didn't get everything out I was pretty sure my head would actually explode.

“Nate had been on tour. Back for a few months before shipping off again. And years apart does things to you. I think I must have gotten sloppy. Dunno if it was ever a conscious thought in his head, but he knew my feelings weren't as deep as his. And well, a baby...that would tie us together for good.”

“Lots of military couples break up,” Valentine said. Still not judging, just trying to understand.

“I couldn't leave him.”

“Why?”

I chewed on my lip, trying to figure that out for myself. Finally we entered the freezer section of the Vault 111 supermarket. Frost burned corpses lay in their cryo pods. They'd have looked asleep if not for the horrible blue-grey hue on their skin and lacy ice crystals frosting their hair and lashes.

What I settled on I don't think was the actual reason itself, but I thought it got to the heart of things. We arrived at the end of the row. Nate’s face was just visible through the glass, the expression of confusion and pain and rage quite literally frozen in place.

“He touched me,” I said. “I know it’s stupid, but he was the only one who ever really touched me. The years apart were hard enough to bear. A whole future? I know it wasn't fair to him but I couldn't…”

Valentine didn't have anything to say to that, cause he was quiet. Just shifted a little closer. I wondered if he'd cracked. If I turned would I see the judgement in his eyes? I couldn’t bear to check, so I stepped forward and threw the manual override on Nate’s cryo pod.

With a groaning that should have woken the dead, the pod opened. Unlike the other popsicles who died easy and resting, Nate was slumped. The blood from the fatal gunshot wound was frozen so dark it looked black all hardened into his jumpsuit.

“You figure out what we're here for?” Valentine asked, hovering over my shoulder.

“Maybe. I think so.”

“You still want me here? I can give you space.”

I leaned back just enough to bump him. “Don't go,” I said.

Nate was thawing quick. Things would get messy if I put it off too much longer. I stepped forward.

“Hey Nate,” I said, my voice sounding dry and distant. “I wanted to come here to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't love you. I'm sorry I couldn't bring myself to tell you either. Twelve years is a long time to love a lie.” The frost was melting from his hair and starting to drop down to the cold concrete. At least he wasn’t alive to hear me break his heart.

“God, Grand-daddy would be proud ‘cause I’m finally doing my confessional,” I said blinking up at the ceiling. “Nate. You gave me your heart and I gave you a paper mache version of mine--painted up all nice but hollow. I was hoping it might fill in as time went on, but that was just wishful thinking. You deserved better than me, my old friend. So I came to say I'm sorry.”

The thaw had reached the muscles in his face, and gravity had pulled the anguish from him. It was time to go.

“And I came to say goodbye,” I said. I reached into my coat pocket and drew two small items. The holotape he'd left for me, and a simple gold ring. It's companion still glittered on Nate’s hand, untarnished by the ice or the years.

I stepped forward and up to the pod. His hands were stiff, either with cold or death I couldn't say. But I slipped both the tape and the ring into them. Just cause it felt right, I took a moment to straighten him back into the pod. When he too looked like he could just be asleep, I stepped back and reactivated the pod. Gases hissed as supercooled particles flooded the chamber, momentarily fogging the porthole. When it cleared, he looked peaceful, twin golden glints nestled right next to each other in one hand.

I'm not sure how long I stood there. Leaving meant actually letting go, and I wasn't sure how to do that.

I wasn't as startled as I thought I'd be when a warm hand found mine. I looked over to Valentine. All his attention was on me, but I saw none of the judgement I'd expected. When I met his gaze he gave me a soft, sad smile and squeezed my hand. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. I returned the smile best I could and rearranged our hands so our fingers threaded together.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice deciding to crack now. We left, making our way back through the echoing halls, entwined hands swinging easily between us.

The weight lifted from my temples as the vault door rumbled closed behind us. The melancholy didn't, but that was alright. When we returned to the world above ground, a star-strewn sky greeted us, brighter than any from the Old World. We stood for a long moment, taking in the billions of lights.

“Darling?” Valentine said, finally breaking the stillness.

“Hmm?”

“Nate ain't the only one who deserved better.”


End file.
